Pound of Flesh
by Latest From The Asylum
Summary: Souls are lost. Souls are sold. Such is the nature of hell. In the clash between heaven and hell, Alec Lightwood's life is lost. While mourning, Magnus is approached by his father Vetis. He makes a deal with the demon and Alec is brought back in perfect health. But every pact with hell comes with a price… and it's not always what the bargainer intended.
1. Vetis

_**A/N:** I'm just going to warn you right off the bat this is depressing as hell. This is the result of a conversation I had with a friend of mine, DoctorTheTwitch, about what we think will happen to our favorite couple in the last TMI book and as you can probably tell we didn't think good things will happen. :)_

_I also wanted to play around with the idea of who Magnus' father is, something I've had trouble finding here on ffnet (If any of you have any recommendations for a story with a good part about his dad, I'd love to hear about it). After a little research and thought, I chose Prince Vetis - often cited with the loss and corruption of innocence. But instead of just plain corruption I thought it'd be interesting if he could... manipulate it a bit. ;)_

_I'm not Cassie, and this is by no means even close to her writing. I'm just tormenting her characters for a bit._

* * *

"No light, no light in your bright blue eyes  
I never knew daylight could be so violent  
A revelation in the light of day  
You can choose what stays and what fades away

And I'd do anything to make you stay  
No light, no light  
(No light)  
Tell me what you want me to say"

_- No Light, No Light _

by Florence and the Machine

* * *

**Pound of Flesh**

**_Chapter One - Vetis_  
**

When the sun rose, it was crimson. Cloud cover spattered the horizon like demon ichor, mirroring almost perfectly the swampy mess the valley had become over night.

"_Alec... Alec?"_

The foothills confined heaven's battlefield, a heavy burden made obvious by the still smouldering scars across their faces. Little could prepare the now decimated forces with the devils they had unwittingly faced.

"_Hello? Yes, a Shadowhunter- no, a young one - I know there are plenty on the ground but - some by the dragon corpse? Very well thank you."_

The ground was littered with countless dead. Yes the battle had been theirs, but it had been at the cost. Even the angels couldn't evade punishment.

"_He's a Lightwood. Yes, blue eyes, black hair. You saw him with the fairies? Thank you."_

The survivors picked through the corpses, hoping not to find a familiar face among them. Along with them was a warlock of high esteem - Magnus Bane. He was disobeying orders by searching; capable warlocks had been required to heal the wounded while everyone else in workable shape sought out their companions. No one scolded him, however. Empathy for those who had yet to find their loved ones was strong between those who were already coping with loss.

"_Off in the woods? Are you sure?"_

The warlock was donned in battle gear traditional to the nephilim. In fact, it was difficult to differ those with angel blood from the downworlders; for this cause they had temporarily became one and they still had yet to drift apart from each other. Little of his tanned skin was left uncovered. Red blood and black ichor stained his body.

"_Are you-? Yes, I am. A greater demon?"_

Magnus had wandered off to the very edge of the destruction. Here some green could be spotted, precious scraps of life that had yet to be sucked dry. Here, a scorched crater could be seen between a few black-clad corpses. The remainder of a Greater Demon who had been banished back into its home dimension. Witchlights sat dead, away from their late owner's grasps and sephraph blades were lifeless clutched by the leather snakes of shadowhunter gear.

"_Alec... Alec?"_

The warlock slowed to a stop in the centre of the clearing. He scanned over the bodies, and his heart stopped when he saw a crop of shaggy black hair.

"_Alec!"_

He rushed to the body, hauling it over so it lay belly-up. The sharp jaw and hollow cheeks of a fairy face confronted him. Magnus relaxed. This wasn't his lover.

It was then his ears perked to the clatter of a skirmish nearby. Straggling hell beasts being warded off, leftovers of the greater battle hidden by what remained of the woods. Magnus stood and after one last look at the clearing, he hurried to the conflict.

The light of active sephraph blades glinted through the foliage and it wasn't long before Magnus came across a pair of shadowhunters fighting the remainder of a Dravak demon horde. One was tall and willowy - one Magnus didn't recognize. The second he knew all too well. Usually in this sort of circumstance he would have joined Alec in the fight, but it was nearly done. No point in assisting with a won battle. The demons screamed as the collapsed in on themselves, falling back into the damned dimension they came from. Unfortunately, one decided to drag the other shadowhunter with them, leaving Alec alone with the last of the horde.

The warlock stepped forward, ready to jump in when needed. But Alec, skilled in his years, made quick work with the demon. Once he pulled his blade from the creature's torso he turned, and the smile of all smiles splashed across his lips when he saw Magnus there. "Magnus-!"

A hissing scream tore through the air as the Dravak demon began folding in, spraying ichor and venom which ate holes into the ground around it. But this wasn't what cut the shadowhunter boy off. In the cataphoney of the demon's descent it's impossibly long scorpion tail lashed out in one last attack.

The tail sliced through Alec's back with the cracking of ribs and ripping of muscle. And just as quickly as it had came, it evaporated, leaving only the open wound and the stink of brimstone. Before Magnus knew it, Alec was collapsed on the ground. Still there, left to die in his home dimension - a blessing not all warriors had.

"_Alec!" _Magnus tore forward, stumbling over debris and a few scattered corpses until he reached the boy, barely catching him. Blood gushed from the newfound hole in his chest, spreading and soaking through Magnus' battle gear. He struggled to pull Alec upright, into a position where he could apply any of the healing charms. "Alec... don't worry I'm here, I'm here, it's okay..."

The warlock was quick to assess the damage. Alec's legs hung limply across Magnus' lap, as if whatever spirit that powered the lower half of the shadowhunter's body had already fled. _Severed spine. _The boy's chest was spasming for breath and a slight whistling could be heard. _Punctured lung. _Not to mention any damage done to the now visible ribs, along with the copious amount of blood being lost. It was a miracle the heart wasn't taken as well considering the width of the demon's tail and the power of which it struck him.

Even with a learned warlock at his side, his chances of surviving were slim.

Alec didn't need to hear the prognosis in order to know this. The pain must have been impossible, and yet he refused to scream. Lightwood resolve, at its finest. Magnus pressed his free hand against the wound and cringed when Alec arched away from it, jaw clamped shut against the new wave of pain. _I'm sorry but I must. _Blue energy sparked as he began the mending process, preparing to empty out every last reserve of strength he had and to pour it into the dying shadowhunter.

Then he ran into a wall. He frowned, trying again and failing with the same results. Now Magnus had never been one who was quick to anger - level-headedness learned over the centuries - but right then, he might as well been as young as Alec. Rage coiled tighter and tighter in his heart with each attempt. He wanted to scream; his magic had never rejected him in this way before. _Now? Now than any other - damn it all! Damn it all to hell! Live... live damn it! Alec, please! Live! For me, Alec! For me!_

His concentration was broken when he felt icy hand wrap around his now blood slicked wrist. Eyes snapping open, he looked down into the now fading blue eyes. In his fervor, Magnus had dug his hand deep into the wound of which hummed with the still reluctant energy. Sweat dripped down his already filthy brow, mixing with what few tears that managed to slip by. And yet Alec managed a weak smile looking at this desperation, as if he were forgiving of Magnus' failure. "Remember...?"

With what scraps of breath Alec had, it was quite something he was able to speak at all. Magnus, at a loss of what else to do, leaned in closer. "What, Alec?"

"The truck." He wheezed. For a frightening second his eyes closed and Magnus reapplied the pressure on his boyfriend's torso in the empty hope that the body would be accepting of his aid. It wasn't, but Alec opened his eyes on his own. "The truck. You... only have so much to give. You don't have much."

"Yes but I can still give what little I have if you _take it." _Magnus hissed, holding the boy even closer. "_Don't you give up hope yet we can still pull through this."_

"There are..."

"Yes?"

"...others?"

Magnus' brow crumpled. "Others?"

"Others like me. Dying."

"Of course." Magnus said curtly.

There was a space of silence. Then with another rattly breath Alec sighed, "Take it."

"Take-" The warlock balked when he realized what was going on. "Alec, _Alec. It's not over. I can save you, I can!"_

What must have been a chuckle tore through the boy's chest, releasing a new stream of blood running from the corner of his lip. His complexion was waxing and the blue of his eyes had tired to a half-hearted grey. Magnus could say what he liked, his magic was doing nothing to slow the shadowhunter's demise. "You can only do so much Magnus... I don't want you to... just take it before it's gone."

"Alec..." Magnus croaked, holding him tighter than ever before. "Alec... please..."

With what must have been his remaining strength, Alec intertwined his fingers through Magnus'. Weakly, the warlock felt the prickle of energy trickle up his arm. Relaxing, Alec smiled. "There. See? Not so... hard."

The shadowhunter slumped into Magnus and what little flow of energy that had been there cut off alltogether. Heart jumping to his throat, Magnus strained to pull him upright again. "Alec?"

Glass blue eyes stared back up at him.

His Alec wasn't there anymore.

And yet Magnus clutched the body even closer. He struggled to keep his breathing even, to keep his senses from frosting over into a state of shock. _Focus. Focus. _Alec was dead. Alexander Lightwood was dead. Another shadowhunter taken by the war of all wars, an honor. It was how he would have wanted to go, young and in a blaze of glory.

_He didn't want to fade. He didn't want to fade. Remember he didn't want to fade..._

Surprisingly enough, tears were easy to keep back. Perhaps it was due to dehydration, or maybe it was because he had known this was coming all along. After all, if Alec had survived this battle another would have taken him a year or two down the road. And if not that, time would have taken him - something Magnus knew Alec would have hated.

_He didn't want to fade... he didn't want to fade..._

Magnus pulled his hand away from the cadaver's still warm wound wiping the blood off onto his pantleg. _He wanted to go like this, doing what he loved. He was doing what he loved. He was doing what he loved. _He took a steadying breath, calming the slight shake that set in his shoulders. With his now clean hand, he pressed two fingers on the body's eyelids, pulling them over the now empty eyes. _It was inevitable. He wouldn't want you to mourn. He wouldn't... he wouldn't. _He buried his face into Alec's shaggy mop of hair, breathing in the bitter and familiar sweat, clinging to the last scraps of heat left in the body.

_He... he didn't want to leave without you._

This last thought cropped up out of nowhere. A stray line of reasoning which certainly wasn't his. It was a snippet sent to him from someone else and only one someone had the ability to do just that.

Magnus refused to look up from his fallen lover, even as he heard the demon's approaching footsteps. "The war is over. There is no reason for you to be here."

_I cannot enjoy peacetime just as well as anyone else? Come now, don't you think that's a tad harsh of you?_

"I can be as harsh as I fucking want." Magnus rarely swore, and when he did it was never with this sincerity. While he knew he should have resisted- _could _have resisted -he found his gaze slowly being drawn away from Alec and up toward the source of the demonic hiss.

His father.

_Vetis._

He was dressed quite dandy this evening. A slick red suit with black shirt and tie accented by a dead rose pinned to his lapel, obviously clean of the battle his spawn had lost him. He would have been considered handsome in his slender build if it hadn't been for the unnatural length of his limbs, his legs stretching him up to an unholy nine feet. Somewhat out of place, a long brimmed cleric's hat worthy that of an exorcist sat atop his head, the long flap of the front further concealing his features past his long black hair.

Well, it would have been concealing if there were any features to hide.

Eyes trained after centuries of these confrontations Magnus could quickly pick up on the expressionless mask of skin that stretched over the face of the demon's humanoid skull. No mouth, no nose, and not a wrinkle of expression lay present. And to the unknowing observer no eyes as well, but Magnus was sharp and knew that his father was no blind man. Eyes, clever and feline like his, lay underneath the wafer-thin skin, blood red irises faintly visible in the sunken sockets.

The hiss stirred again, scattering the warlock's thoughts like autumn leaves. _I suppose you do._

Magnus' hand involuntarily wound itself around the icy fingers of the fallen shadowhunter. "You're not here to pay your respects. Explain yourself."

_You assume such horrible things from me. Did you consider I may be offering my help? _A hard laugh came from Magnus, hollow and without humor. Vetis continued. _I may reconsider if you remain so rude._

"Go ahead and reconsider. I'm not interested in your assistance." Pulling his gaze away from his father felt much like pulling a strip of iron from a powerful magnet. His eyes did eventually snap back to the corpse, and he scooped his arms underneath the body and hoisted up. Nothing ever felt heavier.

A whispy '_tsking_ danced between Magnus' ears. _To think not a decade ago you vowed to harden your heart to these trivial matters._

The warlock's eyes all too readily shot to his sire. "He is _not _trivial."

_Was._ The demon's voice was all ice in its correction of tense. _Well... not quite yet, I suppose._

Magnus' ears perked at the statement. "Excuse me?"

If the demon had a mouth, it'd have been stretched into a sneer. _Oh nothing. You said you didn't require my assistance. I shall honor that request._

"That doesn't exclude an explanation." Magnus' voice lowered as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. It wasn't wise to engage his father in this state, so unstable and vulnerable to suggestion. But he had to know what '_not quite yet'_ entailed. For Alec. "Vetis, explain yourself."

The crumbling crunch of scorched debris echoed in the hollow space of the clearing as the demon came closer, accompanied only by the distant wails of lovers lost. It was surreal knowing that if this had happened years bygone, back when the old warlock had a heart raw and bleeding like that of a mortal, he would have joined them. He would have torn his hair and wept in hysterics. And yet here he stood, holding a conversation with his father when his lover lay freshly dead in his arms. Some would call him heartless, and he supposed there was some truth to it. When age isn't able to erode the body it petrifies the soul; how else would the angels in heaven be divinely impartial and the demons in hell parched by a constant thirst to _feel _and to _thrive _even though they've long lost the luxury.

However silent, the ageless warlock was consumed by a hollow emptiness. He had long lost his passion and his vigor; the jagged edges of fury now degraded melancholy as fine as powder. It kept building and building into the thickest of layers over him, threatening to buckle his knees and pull him down to sleep in the ashes with the fallen Lightwood and let himself be buried in the downpour.

Vetis knew this. Magnus knew he knew this. And he had ceased to care.

The hellish prince reaches a spindly hand, leaving it suspended in the as if offering his scent to a frisky creature. By the quirk of his twiggesh and gnarled fingers Magnus knew what he was asking; _dare I touch? _Weighed down by the dust, Magnus' chin dipped in a nod and was barely able to lift it up again.

His father's talon-like nails skittered across the boy's forehead, brushing his hair to the side. The demon shook his head, the shadow over his mask shifting with unnatural life. _Aren't you tired of this all?_

Magnus didn't answer, watching the lazy patterns being traced in his former lovers forehead. The memory of playing with those very same locks sparked in the depths of his mind, staticing out and attracting another layer. Vetis continued. _Watching your lovers live and thrive and die only to leave you stagnant. So corrupted with the monotony of immortality. Would you say?_

"I..." Magnus sighed, his hearing bogged down by the static of the transmissions of his own thoughts let alone his father's. "I can't say."

_If it's any matter, I for one tire of watching you, my son, suffer so dearly. _The crisp tenor of the prince's voice crooned, his hand tracing down the shadowhunter's neck and onto the warlocks wrist. Magnus shivered, the dehydrating singe of the fingers freezing his blood with their arctic bite. _Isn't it time you move on?_

"What do you want of me, father?"

There was a pause before the hand clamped the crook of his elbow. _I wish what you wish. An end to all things and the beginning of something new._

Silence blew between the two immortals, the elder's gaze steady on his son. Magnus was focused on the closed eyes of the boy, the hollow ache transmuting into a seed and from that seed sprouted a desire; _What I wouldn't give to see those blue eyes again..._

"What you were saying earlier..." He trailed, shifting his grip slightly so his own slender fingers could caress the waxing cheek of the shadowhunter.

The demon hummed, his hand scuttling up to it's new perch on the younger's shoulder. _Magnus, would you have said that this Alexander was your all?_

His breath caught. He could feel the subtle tug of binding magic trickling into him from the prince's fingertips. And yet again, he was unable to care. Wearily, he sighed, "...yes."

_And would you, my son, say that even after centuries of lovers and broken hearts, that he was your one and only? _Vetis' voice played tender at this point, and suddenly the witchcraft wasn't all too harsh. It was as if the years were systematically be stripped from Magnus, restoring breath to his lungs and fleshiness to his heart. All the more to bleed, and his calm dignity began to drain away. "Of course."

Suddenly both hands were grasped on his shoulders, the brim of the unholy cleric's hat itching against the warlock's brow. Now he could truly see the demon's eyes; his eyes. _What would you give to save him from the depths of the abyss? _

Tears stung and ran hot trails down his cheeks. Suddenly he was a young boy again, in his father's presence for the very first time after having drenched his hands with the blood of the mundane who had been committed to his mother. He shook like a prophet in the presence of the angels, words escaping him in sheer terror. Alec, his Alec, lost forever to the depths of hell because of a false move. Because he had to turn and look, to turn and greet _him. _Sickness churned and suddenly the weight of it all became too much. He bucked over, Alec still sorely gripped to his chest. Throat becoming sore from silent cries, he buried his head in the crook of the boy's neck. Vetis had followed him down, hand mussed in his son's hair as he kneeled before him. With a serpentine hiss as tantalizing as Lucifer before him, he bided. _Magnus?_

"Anything." He croaked, voice cracking across the octaves. "I would give anything to have him live another day."

_Perfectly understandable. _The demon's tone was considering, as if he were choosing between white and red wine. Maliciously, his nails dug into his son's scalp, making the warlock choke off as he pulled his head up to face him. The quick snap washed Magnus down with a dizzying wave of vertigo, his ears ringing from the silent conversation and his head clouding up with the air of stress and sorrow. It seemed the only solid ground his mind had to stand on any longer were his father's words. _There's still hope then._

"What do you want?" Unlike the first time he inquired, this time Magnus' intentions were as pure and naive. Years out the window, he was heartsick and irrational. And if he were in any mood for contemplation, the consideration of his behaviour mirroring what Alec's would certainly have been would have arisen without a doubt.

_My pound of flesh. _Now bloody hands trailed down and cupped Magnus' face. _You are well practiced in Bell, Book, and Candle. A soul for a soul; a life for a life._

The shaking capitalized, his only tether being his father. "My... my life. This is what you require?"

_Not so much your life rather than your essence. _At this point the now steady flow of energy that had spread and sank its roots into him began to retreat, tugging at his seams and pulling him threadless and apart. _You shall be stripped of you immortality and your life stunted to my liking. And when it comes time for you to pass on, you shall be mine once again._

Magnus' grip dug into Alec's stiffening corpse. Panic washed over him, reacting poorly to the already well settled weight of agony and the fresh blood of his newfound innocence. He knew Alec wouldn't have wanted this, he would have been torn in similar stitches if he had been looking on. He could practically hear the boy's voice; "_Never Magnus, never. I would never want you to this. Not for me, not for anyone. You are too precious." _

And yet, he couldn't shake his visions of the world bathed in blood and his love suffering for the sins of his shortcomings. If he had to storm the seventh circles of hell exhausting his spells until his hands bled, he would have done it gladly. In comparison, the Faustian delay of retribution seemed tame, an obvious choice.

There was no need to voice his answer. The second he gave into the temptation the tugging at his strings tore out the roots of his very core in an unceremonious upheaval. The long built-upon spiderweb of threaded thoughts were suddenly batted to oblivion and his eyes that had seen centuries turn and generations grow and die blacked into a temporary blindness. And at the climax of this robbery, the last remaining chain- that forever golden chain every immortal was shackled with -was shattered and life and look escaped as he collapsed into his lover.

For that moment, the world became impossibly cold.

_And in payment: let you wake with your Alexander. He shall have no memory of this, my son, as this will remain your burden to bear alone._

_But until then, sleep._

_Hold him close._

_Cherish your nights,_

_and love him like he's your last._

_For there will be no after._


	2. The Little Things

**Pound of Flesh**

**_Chapter Two - The Little Things_  
**

"I was a heavy heart to carry

my beloved was weighed down  
My arms around his neck  
My fingers laced to crown

I was a heavy heart to carry  
But he never let me down  
When he had me in his arms  
My feet never touched the ground"

_"Heavy in Your Arms"_

_-Florence + The Machine_

_Six Months After_

It was a bright and blinding winter day when Alec had risen early from their bed, fueled by the most unusual drive. The boy had never been much of a morning person, never waking up earlier than ten during his stay in Magnus' loft. So when he had insisted to having a morning coca at the warlock's favorite coffee house Magnus knew something was up.

A tight coil of apprehension slowly grew tighter and tighter as the morning prep progressed; Alec wouldn't look him straight in the eye. Brushing teeth, dressing, shrugging on coats and wrapping scarves while half-heartedly asking how the other slept... each moment bred tension. Neither of them spoke after they left the flat, making the usually short walk to the cafe tortuously long. Once in the coffee shop's hum of constant traffic, Alec still had trouble filling the void between them, choosing instead to bury his head into his Vanilla Steamer while Magnus swirled a cappuccino, quietly drowning in anxiety.

_He knows. He knows. He knows what I have done and he is going to leave me to die alone..._ Magnus supposed it was his fault, the secrecy around the matter of Alec's mortality. As far as Alec or the rest of the Lightwood family knew, he had simply gotten knocked in the head by a particularly nasty dravak demon. He would have been died, if it hadn't been for the oh so heroic Magnus, master warlock of good timing and healing charms. He was lauded as his lover's savior the moment he carried the limp but living Alec to his family.

If only they knew he had been too late.

If only they had seen their brother and son torn and broken as he had.

_If only..._

"Magnus?"

He broke out of his reverie, focusing back on the boy sitting across from him. Handsome, the warlock couldn't help but think. Alec's cheeks were still rosy from the cold outside, chin tucked into the brilliantly blue scarf Magnus had gifted him over a year prior. Eyes of a similar shade shone at Magnus across the table, warm hands clasping protectively over his when the shadowhunter reached across the table. The warlock's breath caught, preparing for the worst.

It never came. Instead, Alec launched into a breathy and rambling exposition of their relationship. He recounted the sweet things; when they first met, their first kiss, that fateful night in Idris when they applied the binding rune. He also addressed the bitter things; their first fight, their lack of communication, Camille. Their entire relationship unfolded between them on the coffee table, Alec being the timid narrator. Confused, Magnus sat back and watched as the boy pulled his hands away and began fumbling with his coat pockets.

"...and I just want to... to..." The shadowhunter's nose scrunched up in the most adorable way when he spat out a string of curses, smacking his empty coat pockets. "Shit. I'm so sorry, I just, I think I left it in my other coat..."

It was then when it clicked._ Oh._ A slow smile crept across the old warlocks lips. "Are you...?"

Alec buried his head in his hands, face flushed in embarrassment. "Yes."

"Alec." Magnus' smile had now blossomed into a full-blown grin. "Of course."

The shadowhunter peeked past his fingers. "Really?"

Magnus took Alec's wrists in his hands, pulling his hands away from the beet-red face. "Really."

The boy was about to rebut, however Magnus beat him to the punch by leaning across the table and closing his lips with a tender kiss. He pulled away slightly, breathing in the leftover vanilla on Alec's breath. "I do."

Joy sparked in his lover's eyes and in one swift movement he took Magnus' collar and pulled him into a second, lasting kiss. Fingers trailed up his neck and knotted in his hair, pulling him closer in a somewhat awkward half-lean over the small table. Not that Magnus minded. He would have stayed that way for days if it meant keeping Alec close. With a chuckle the boy broke the kiss, sitting back into his chair happier than ever. Magnus beamed back."Whatever made you doubt my answer?"

To this Alec sighed. "Well... I don't know. You've been acting strange lately."

"Lately?" Magnus folded his hands, slipping into his usual lie all too easily. "Alec darling, most would say I've always been odd."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Stranger than _usual._"

"How so?"

"You seem flighty."

"Flighty?"

"Flighty." Alec confirmed. "I don't know, for the past couple months it's like you've been working on overdrive. You take me out to eat almost every night, we've seen every Broadway show twice over and you haven't taken a client since I can't remember when. Not to mention we portaled halfway around the world just to finish up that trip of ours not a day I was well enough to walk... I mean... by the Angel, it's like you expect me to vanish any day."

Magnus looked down at his clasped hands, smile fading. "You almost _did_ vanish."

Silence blew between the two, the cheerful air stealing away to a heavier seriousness when the two reflected on that on that dark day of the war's end. Alec as a close call and a miracle; Magnus as... well, he didn't much like thinking about it. Warmth enveloped his gloveless fingers as Alec again draped his palms over them. The warlocks mind couldn't help but be reminded of a time they weren't so soft and hot. "I'm here, you're here. Let's make it count."

A crooked smile returned to Magnus but tears stung his eyes. He ducked his head and kissed Alec's knuckles, blinking away the moisture before it could spill over. _I have been making it count._ A worried coo escaped the shadowhunters throat. "That's another thing. I don't think I've ever seen you cry before the war. Now it's like the littlest things get you worked up."

"I'm thinking more than I should, that's all.." He lifted the shadowhunter's hand in his and rubbed it against his cheek, closing his eyes as he took in the precious warmth. "I'll get a hold of myself eventually. I'll be your glamorous pillar of stability in no time-although I'm not sure the engagement process will do anything to help getting my emotions in order."

"No, no, I like it." The boy turned his palm so it was cupping the warlock's jaw. A steady thumb wiped away a stray tear. "You're being honest with me. More open."

More tears would have come if it hadn't been for a cough that suddenly kicked Magnus in the chest. Alec's hand flew to his shoulder, gripping it hard. "Magnus?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He huffed once he had caught his breath, throwing on another grin even though his throat still itched. "Probably a winter bug. I've had hundreds, dear, and one has yet to take more than a chip off my shoulder." He brushed his boyfriend's-no, fiance's-hand off and stood. "Pay for us while I'm in the bathroom?"

"You're making me pay?"

"It was your idea."

"Bastard."

Magnus pecked Alec on the cheek. "Meet you in the front."

With a wave he disappeared around the back corner into the narrow passage leading to the bathrooms. The cough stirred up again as he shouldered his way into the men's room, quickly evolving into a rib-shattering hacking fit.

It wasn't long before he found himself slouched against the damp sink counter, groping for a paper towel or tissue. Due to the lunch rush being an hour off and the breakfast crowd having already wandered out, the warlock had the room to himself. Something he was thankful for, as he wouldn't have known how to deal with any mundane who might try to "help". Unable to find anything to stem the wheezing he resorted to the black sleeve of his pea coat, shoulders shaking with the growing intensity of the seizing. Finally he regained control of his breathing, lightheaded and weak-kneed. He pulled his sleeve from the crook of his elbow down across his mouth, intending to brush away saliva that might have still clung to his chin and lips. Dampness spread across the back of his hand when he pulled it across his jaw and he sighed, flipping on a faucet to wash the flu germs away.

He didn't know why he looked down at his hands before running them under the stream of hot water, but what he saw froze him to the spot.

Flesh red winked and shimmered against his tan skin._ Blood._ This would have made anyone to worry, especially from springing up from a particularly violent coughing fit. But that wasn't all that was smeared against his skin. Already congealing in tar-like clumps were mixed in with the crimson, thick and stuck to his skin like molasses. A far cry from the bright and freely dripping blood. It was dark, stank of rotting flesh and was..._ smoking._

And not entirely unfamiliar. As the clumps began sizzling away into nothingness, burning his hand, the warlocks gut dropped through the bottom of his shoes at the realization.

_Demon Ichor._

My_ demon ichor._

He shoved his hands under the running faucet. Never had he scrubbed harder in his life. The water was turned so hot steam rose from the sink and his liberal use of hand soap tainted the air with the toxic smell of antibacterial.

His throat tickled.

His chest ached.

His knees were weak.

And in the back of his oh-so-dizzy head, he could hear Vetis whisper,

_So it begins._


	3. Under the Weather

**Pound of Flesh**

_**Chapter Three - Under the Weather**_

"Come along it is the break of day  
Surely now, you'll have some things to say  
It's not the time for telling tales on me

So come along, it wont be long  
'Til we return happy  
Shut your eyes, there are no lies  
In this world we call sleep  
Let's desert this day of hurt  
Tomorrow we'll be free"

_-Soon We'll Be Found_

By Sia

* * *

"Nineteen. Nineteen and already hitched, to your first love at that." Jace sniffed, wiping away invisible tears as he leaned back into Magnus's couch. "It's just so... _domestic."_

Alec gave his parabatai a playful shove, flushing. "As if you didn't do the same with Clary."

The girl in question giggled, engagement band on her finger glinting as she sorted through wedding invites. She stacked several squares of heavy, cream-colored stationary into a neat pile print-side up. "I still can't believe we're doing this." She sighed, admiring their first batch of invitations ready to be enveloped and mailed. They had a lot of work ahead of them; double weddings tended to have double the guests to alert.

"God I feel like an old spinster now." Isabelle laughed, leaning into Simon who had been fumbling around with some ribbon samples. She elbowed him in the side. "If only I had a guy to support me so I can spend the rest of my life safely in the kitchen raising my 2.5 kids."

Simon rolled his eyes. "If we were married I'd make sure you were anywhere _but _the kitchen. And don't you think a kitchen would be a somewhat hazardous environment to rear children?"

"Oh Angel." Jace groaned. "Don't mention those little gremlins."

Clary arched an eyebrow. "Not that I want kids either but, don't you think this should be a group decision and not a Jace decision?"

Jace flinched, clawing at his ears in mock torment. "Kids! No! Do not speak the cursed word!"

A glue bottle was hurled across the coffee table at Jace, and he deftly caught it and tossed it back to Clary. He winked. "Gotta do better than that, babe."

Clary guffawed. "Did you just call me 'babe'?"

"Maybe."

"Well forget it. I'll have babies just to spite you. Babies everywhere. Then we'll see who you'll be calling 'babe'."

"Well..." Simon stiffly attempted at a segway. "I'm sure glad I can't have children."

Isabelle pecked the vampire on the cheek. "We'll adopt, like my brother. Right?"

"What?" Alec hadn't been paying all too much attention to the conversation. He had been too busy worrying why his other half had failed to leave their room the duration of the get-together.

"Children. Are you and Magnus ever planning to adopt? Or maybe have a surrogate?"

Alec shifted uncomfortably, still eyeing the bedroom door. "Don't you think it's a little early to be talking about this?"

"You're almost twenty, Alec." His sister scoffed. "A lot of guys your age are seasoned fathers. And it's not like you're adopting right now we're just talking. It's fun."

"Really?" Alec muttered, brow furrowing. "Well I'm sure Magnus would love to chat that up. If he gets his ass out of bed, that is."

Jace, who had busied himself with licking envelopes, spat into a nearby trashcan before commenting. "Is that where the glitter bomb has been this entire time? In bed? It's three thirty."

"I know." Alec stood, brushing paper trimmings off his lap before standing and walking over to the door. He knocked. "Magnus?"

"Mmmmm?" Alec's concern grew when he heard the raspiness of the groan. _This cold is really hitting him hard. _

Alec tried to sound as gentle as possible, leaning against the door to make sure his words weren't lost through the wood barrier. "You okay?"

There was a stir in the room, the creaking of their bed along with the shifting of their comforter. "Yeah... just a little under the weather, that's all."

Alec frowned. "You've been 'under the weather' for the past two weeks, Mags."

Footsteps came in response, and the shadowhunter was jarred when the door opened. The warlock peeked past the crack of the door, bloodshot and baggy cat eyes squinting against the afternoon light. "I know, hun."

The shadowhunter's heart panged when he saw his fiance. _Magnus... you look half to hell._ The warlock was slouched in the doorframe wearing nothing but a pair of black shimmering boxers, a bright focal point which normally emphasized the man's perky attitude and fit physique. But now it was too much of a contrast from the sickly warlock. His tanned skin was clammy and lackluster, his lips seemed to be turning blue and his ungelled hair was a bed-head disaster. Not to mention the smeared attempts at eyeliner and mascara, making his eyes look even more sunken in and wasted.

Alec was beginning to wonder if this was really the cold Magnus was claiming it was.

He glanced back at the group, who were all silently busying themselves with the stationary. A little too quiet. Alec knew they were listening in. He turned back to Magnus, offering a sorry smile. "Is there anything you want me to do?"

"No, I'm fine." Magnus sighed before taking a deep breath punctuated by a small hacking fit. He waved his fiance off. "Go work on the invites. I'll magic some up tonight, when I don't feel like total shit."

He began to close the door but Alec stuck his foot in between the door and the jamb. Magnus shot him an unfriendly look, and unsure of what to say Alec blurted, "how about some soup? Some nice, homemade chicken and rice soup?"

"Chicken and rice?" Magnus considered, eyeing Alec as he mulled the offer over behind those foggy cat eyes. Finally, with a sigh, he scooped a robe off from the floor and shrugged it on. "Keep your sister away from my cooking ware."

So that's when the planning party took a break to make soup for the ailing groom. They had the kind of fun they rarely seemed to have anymore: just thoughtless, kiddish, goofy fun in the kitchen. Jace and Simon dueled with ladles. Clary, Izzy, and Alec meanwhile messed around with the rice cooker, none of them knowing how to actually use it and playing twenty questions with Magnus to get it up and running. They laughed as they pretended the pot of boiling water was a basket and taking three-point shots with bits of chicken, celery and carrots. Magnus, proudly, snagged the high score, even though he was suspected of performance-enhancing magic. And when that was all over, they had some damn good soup to eat together.

They all sat around the messy coffee table, coupled off in different corners of the couches. Isabelle and Simon were chatting over their food, both still a bit ornery from the playtime cooking. Clary and Jace were curled up against each other sharing the same soup bowl. Which left Alec with Magnus sprawled across his lap, half asleep and accepting the occasional spoonful of broth from Alec. As he fed his lover, Alec toyed with the warlock's tangled hair, combing it through a little with his free fingers. It was during this time Alec pondered. He pondered how many times the old warlock held him like this, vulnerable in his arms. When Magnus stopped eating, Alec set the bowl down onto the table and settled back to relax. He began to doze, arms around Magnus and pressed snugly against the cushions.

A mix of thoughts, worries, and images stirred as he drew nearer to sleep. His concern for Magnus's worsening condition, idle speculation about their wedding and if it was really a good idea to pair theirs with his parabatai's. But on the far edge of sleep, a more surreal scene provoked his vision.

A dark red sky. Magnus, bruised and bloody, holding him. Whispers dancing around his ear, spoken in a tongue akin to the crackling of embers. He was cold and heavy, no more than dead weight in the warlock's arms.

But the vision vanished as quickly as it came, and soon Alec surrendered to the peaceful nothingness of sleep.

* * *

_A/N: Hey guys. Sorry for the long wait between updates. I just had to sit down and outline this sucker, as well as write out a solid ending to work up too. So hopefully, the updating will be semi-regular. :)_

_I'd love to hear your thoughts, a review would be lovely._


	4. Lilacs and Anemones

**Pound of Flesh**

**_Chapter Four - Lilacs and Anemones_  
**

"The tailored suit, the interview  
She sits and he stares at her waiting  
He looks in her eyes and sees a bouquet of thoughts  
But nothing to say

Every sound and color wrapped in newspaper  
Babies breath, daises, white rose carnations  
Saving every thought and phrase in vase  
One day you'll be face to face"

_-Bouquet_

By Caravan of Thieves

* * *

Alec winced when Jace fumbled with his lapel pin. "By they-_ Jace!_"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry." His parabatai muttered, re-adjusting the red rose. "Flower pinning, unfortunately, is not one of my numerous talents."

Thankfully however, Jace successfully fastened the bloom to Alec's tux without anymore bloodshed. Massaging his sore chest, Alec huffed. "Obviously."

He turned to the floor length mirror and frowned at how crooked the rose was. He straightened the pin and smoothed out his lapel, both having been thrown askew by Jace. His hand lingered on the petals of the flower as he studied his reflection. It was somewhat surreal, seeing himself in a black tux and tie. He could have sworn he had proposed to Magnus only yesterday but here he was, six months later and he was preparing to exchange rings with him. He was twenty, a grown man so far from the scared little boy he was not two years ago. Getting married to the perfect groom, for his whole family and then some to see._ Married._ It was enough to make his head spin.

"Red roses." Jace smirked beside him in the mirror. It'd be stupid to think that Jace's mind wasn't reeling in the same way his was, and Alec could see the nervous glint in his eyes. But same as ever, his parabatai glossed it all over with his first-boy wit. "Shame your boyfriend couldn't magic us up a few bundles of golden ones. Would've brought out my eyes."

"Because heaven forbid if we're looking at anything else." Alec sighed, sitting down on a nearby chair. "Angel. Soon he'll be my_ husband."_

"And Clary, my wife." The blonde's smirk softened to a nostalgic smile as he sat down across his parabatai. "How time flies."

Alec nodded, the two of them becoming swallowed by thoughts of their lovers and how they were about to pledge themselves to them. This was a bittersweet affair for Alec. Magnus hadn't been in his top form that morning. But then again, Alec realized with a shiver, he had trouble remembering a time where the warlock _wasn't_ ill. In all the bustle and stress of the wedding planning he seemed to get progressively worse, dropping clients and skipping dates in favor of spending a day in bed. And a only a week earlier he had dug up an old ivory-headed cane, a relic Alec had only seen once before being used as a decorative prop when they went to the opera. Now it was the only thing keeping the weak warlock standing. Then there were the coughing fits that would strike in the dead of night, where he would hold Magnus against chills and shakes. Magnus did his best to hide his condition, passing it as flu and washing the blood from his hacking from the sheets before he thought Alec could see. But Alec knew. Only issue was, there was no one he could go to with the information. A problematic thing, the healer of the group being not only ill but in denial.

Jace must have noticed the worried knit in his brow, as Alec was snapped out of the downward spiral of thought when the boy rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Jace smiled. "Hey, it's going to be a good day."

Forcing a smile, Alec nodded. "Yeah. I know."

Jace didn't buy the bullshit line, but before he could call Alec out on it there was a sharp knock on their door. They exchanged bewildered glances, and Jace stood.

"Luke? Already?" Alec asked as his parabatai walked to the door.

Jace glanced back at his fellow groom, worry still tracing his expression but for the most part replaced by his own apprehension. "Getting cold feet?"

"Never." Alec scoffed. "Just open the door, Jace."

"Whatever you say." The blonde shrugged when he reached the entrance, letting his hand rest on the handle for a moment before pulling the door open. To both of the groom's shock, it wasn't Luke.

Magnus Bane looked down at Jace, smirking as he leaned into his cane. "Ah, good, this is the right room. I didn't think I could've survived wandering into yet another group of bridesmaids in various states of undress."

"Bane!" Jace didn't move to let him in, choosing instead to lounge against the doorjamb. "What are you doing here? Isn't there some tradition about how it's poor form to see your bride before you're married?"

"Good thing it's not a bride I'm looking for." Alec's heart fluttered when he heard the familiar soft chuckle. "May I speak with him? It should only be a minute or two."

With a sigh Jace stepped back and shrugged. "Fine, fine. But if I catch you two kissing out of wedlock I'll have no choice but to stone you for infidelity."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Magnus sighed, stepping out where Alec could finally see him in full. He was, of course, striking in a tux if not a little odd lacking his usual neon flair and cosmetics. Alec was also relieved to see he wasn't relying too terribly much on his cane and his steps seemed fairly steady. Beaming, he stood to meet his to-be husband, easily pulling the frail warlock into a firm but loving hug.

When he pulled away however, he couldn't help but echo Jace's concerns. "You aren't supposed to be here, Magnus."

"I know, I know." Magnus brushed his hair to the side, his smile making his cat eyes shimmer. "I just needed to give you something."

"Right before the wedding?"

"Think of it as a last-minute romantic endeavor."

"Because getting married isn't amourous whatsoever."

"Oh hush." Magnus stepped out of Alec's arms and set his cane against a chair and began fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve. "This's an embellishment, that's all."

Alec was about to demand exactly what the hell he was going on about, when suddenly, with a flick of the warlock's wrist, he was faced with a full bouquet of flowers._ Literally, pulled from his sleeve._ The shadowhunter laughed outright, taking the flowers. "Parlor tricks, now?"

"I prefer to call them 'classic novelties', but if you want to belittle my gesture of affection be my guest." Magnus gave him a warm smile before cupping his hands around his fiance's. Alec returned it before turning his gaze down to admire the arrangement. It was a gorgeous piece, overflowing with blue anemones he had no doubt matched his eyes perfectly, as the color seemed to be somewhat of a fixation of Magnus's. Tucked underneath them were, to Alec's delight, royal purple lilacs. He closed his eyes and held the flowers up to his nose, taking in the dew-laden scent of his favorite flower. He grinned and opened his eyes again, but just as he was about to gush over the gift like a twelve-year-old girl, he caught sight of a third flower tucked deep within the petals.

"Magnus..." Alec pulled a hand out from under the warlock's, frowning as he dug into the bouquet and pulled out one of the stems. Pinched between his fingers was a single crop of lace white lilacs and by the looks of it, there were even more hidden within the bundle. He held it up for Magnus to see. "White? On our wedding day?"

Jace guffawed from his haunt on the other side of the room. "We're already having two weddings, so I guess Magnus figured we were missing a funeral."

Magnus rolled his eyes, taking the flower from Alec. "Believe it or not, I didn't grow up with the customs of the nephilim. So naturally, the color has a completely different connotation for me. And if you would give me a chance to explain my reasoning behind this...?"

Alec nodded, wary of where the warlock was headed. Magnus probably knew shadowhunter history and custom better than Alec, and it wasn't like him to take them on with such disregard. The old warlock only behaved this when stressed, either acting out harshly or making a deliberate miscalculation just for the sake of irritating others. Something Alec learned the hard way after several nasty incidents involving Magnus telling the leader of a prominent guatemalan werewolf pack to go piss on a fence post, and they had to portal out of the country before they were ripped limb from limb. An episode that, now that Alec thought about it, signaled the downhill slope of sickness a mere week before Magnus caught the six month long 'common cold'.

But he kept quiet, allowing Magnus to elaborate on his poor choice of flower color. "I don't know how familiar you are with mundane color association, but outside of nephilim understanding white is the color of innocence. And this," Magnus twirled the bloom between his long fingers. Alec couldn't help but noticed a slight tremble to the movement. "...the white lilac, is the end all say all when depicting purity. It's the flower of saints and virgins. And, well, one of those apply to you, so I figured why not." He tucked the bloom back into the bouquet. "The purple lilacs are a symbol of first love, as I am yours. And the anemones..." He paused, thoughtfully toying with some of the petals of the aforementioned flower. "Blue. As blue as the eyes that captured me not so long ago."

He ended this with a terribly tender smile, and Alec's heart leapt to his throat when he saw the warlock's eyes grow misty with oncoming tears. "Magnus..." Alec began, but was cut off when the warlock's mouth crashed down onto his, the bouquet quickly getting crushed between them.

When they pulled apart, Alec buried his head into the hollow of Magnus's neck, breathing in the thick scent of cologne. "Don't ever change, okay?"

"Only if you promise me the same." Alec felt a hand stroke down through his hair, petting the back of his head. He nodded into Magnus' shirt, trying not to tear up himself as all the worries and fears that had been weighing him down for so long came rushing back. Sick Magnus, dying Magnus, Magnus too weak to crack wise and steal coffee from Starbucks. _I'll do anything for you to get better, Mags. Anything._

After holding each other for a few more fulfilling moments, Alec finally pulled back. In a strange show of how Magnus was rubbing off on him, his first comment was dress-related. "Magnus, your lapel pin! It's half wilted!"

"Hm?" Magnus looked down, hand brushing up against the wilted rose pinned to his suit coat. His lips pressed into a hard line. "Oh. So it is."

"Here." Alec pulled an anemone from the bouquet before setting it down, and he pulled the pin from Magnus's lapel. He replaced the rose without much trouble, re-fastening the flower onto Magnus with ease. "Maybe we could put these flowers of yours to some good use."

"And they weren't in the bouquet?"

"I'm not going to be carrying a bouquet for the ceremony Magnus. Hell, you're the one walking down the aisle not me."

"And here you were, complaining about tradition just a minute ago."

"Magnus..." Alec groaned, lightly punching him on the shoulder. Lightly, as he feared anything stronger would cause him to go tumbling over. "Can't we survive one day without bickering?"

Magnus scooped up his cane and leaned forward, nipping his lover's ear. "Welcome to marriage, darling."

Alec grinned back, pecking Magnus on the cheek before letting him walk back to the door. But as soon as the warlock turned around, he was met by a barrage of wound-up ribbon. Jace smirked, finishing the attack by tossing the head of a crushed rose at the warlock. "There, you have been stoned. Let your soul burn in hell for now until eternity, you whorish wench."

There was a brief pause, and Alec expected Magnus to bounce back from the mild surprise with a comment equally as snarky. But instead, a troubled shadow passed over his face and he knifed his way by the shadowhunter, not looking back before he shut the door behind him. Alec stood there, dumbstruck. "What the..."

"Well, it's_ somebody's_ time of the month." Jace muttered, kicking the mess of ribbons to the side before strutting over to Alec's half-crushed picked it up, frowning down at the white that was now obvious past the other flowers. "I'm pretty sure you'd get shot if you carried this down the aisle."

Alec, with his eyes still on the door, muttered. "That's why I'm_ not_. But Jace... do you have any idea what that was about? The flowers, I mean."

His parabatai shrugged. "Not a clue. Maybe he made a bad bet and now he has to flee the country, and this is his way of saying goodbye."

"Funny." Alec snatched the flowers from Jace, frowning. "I'm sure you'd be in the same joking mood if Clary had been the one to drop by like that."

"If Clary had been the one to come by," Jace pointed out, "we'd be doing a hell of a lot more than kissing."

Any attempt at a comeback on Alec's part was cut short by another string of knocks on the door. Heart picking up pace, he hurried over to the door, silently thanking the Angel that Magnus wasn't going to leave him a worried mess like this. He took the knob and twisted it open. "Magnus, I'm sorry but what-"

He stopped short, deflating a bit when he saw Luke standing in the hallway, not Magnus. Luke's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, what about Magnus?"

Alec shook his head, stepping back to let Clary's step-father in. "Nothing, nothing. I suppose it's time for the ceremony to start?"

There was a brief but awkward silence as Luke glanced at the bouquet and then at Jace, who was still lurking further back in the room. Finally, though, he nodded. "Um, yes. Yes it is. Follow me."

* * *

"Something's wrong."

Jace glanced over at Alec, not moving from where he was waiting beside the altar. "What?"

Alec shook his head slightly, meeting his parabatai's gaze. "I don't know why, but I just know. Something's wrong."

"Are your spidey senses tingling?" The blonde smirked before turning back to look down the aisle. "Relax. Everything's going to be just..." He trailed, smirk disappearing into a worried line as he glanced at the clock. Also, past the murmur of quiet conversation coming from the pews a sharp tap tap tapping could be heard echoing through the slightly ajar sanctuary door. He cocked his head, as if to get a better listen at the growing tapping noise coming closer. "...fine?"

The tapping stopped, and for a brief moment a shimmer of gold could be spotted through the gap between the open doors. Then, of all people, Clary edged her way through the two doors, shoulders hunched and stepping lightly as if trying not to attract any attention._ Good luck with that._ Alec thought mildly, watching as the bride-to-be hiked up her golden gown and trotted her way down the aisle unattended, much to the wedding guests bafflement. She waved Jace and Alec down, and it took the two of them a moment to realize she wanted them to get off the church stage. Nervous and confused, they obliged, meeting the now huffing redhead on the floor.

"What's going on?" Jace hissed.

Clary held up a finger, struggling to regain her breath._ Did she actually run all this way?_ Alec shifted uneasily, eyes snapping to the doors in search for Magnus or Luke, who were both supposed to be coming in with her. But there was no one, and he turned back to the breathless bride. Finally Clary spoke. "Magnus... he's gone."

"Gone?" Alec was incredulous. "What do you mean 'gone'? We saw him only a half hour ago."

She shook her head. "Well we couldn't find him. He's not in his room or in any of the bathrooms, and Luke's still looking for him but I figured I'd better come and tell you guys..." She glanced between the two of them. "Also we have no idea how long this is going to take, and I know your family doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Clary." Jace took her shoulders, but gently. She was his bride, after all. "Where have you looked?"

"I already told you." She frowned before looking to Alec. "But Luke figured you might have an idea where he is."

"I..." Alec trailed, feeling lost as the news finally sunk in._ Magnus is missing?_ "I don't know."

Clary gave him a comforting smile, rocking awkwardly on her too-high heels. "I thought you might want to help us look."

Nodding, Alec stepped past Clary and began rushing down the aisle toward the doors. But something grabbed onto his sleeve, and he looked back to see Jace. "What?"

"I'm coming with." His parabatai smiled, matching his stride with Clary following close behind.

Alec shook his head. "No, you two can go ahead and get married. I've got this."

"No, you don't." Jace sighed, letting go of Alec's sleeve. His expression was mostly unreadable but the worry was there. He had been there when Magnus had visited, and he was probably thinking the same thing Alec was. "You're not doing this alone. We're coming with, like it or not."

And so they did.

* * *

All the halls looked the same to Alec.

He had been wandering the endless corridors of the old Catholic church for what felt like years, feverishly throwing doors open only to be faced with a parade of empty rooms. With every dead end, his panic grew. _Magnus... oh Angel Magnus..._ he had taken up a light jog, even as he began re-checking rooms while cursing why they had decided to get married in such a large church. Finally, he slumped against one of a confessional, sliding down onto his haunches. He was drained, and hope was ebbing away alarmingly fast._ Magnus... Magnus..._ His mind had long since went haywire trying to think up of various reasons Magnus would disappear on such short notice, each one progressively more negative than the last._ Did he get cold feet? Was the bouquet his parting gift? What if Jace was write and he really did make a bad bet and now he's hiding in Holland? Oh Angel..._ His head thudded against the mesh wall of the wood confessional. "Magnus... where are you?"

Of course, there was no answer. With a labored sigh he stood back up, planning to resume his most likely fruitless search for his runaway groom. But as he was edging around the confessional, a dull white glint caught his eye. Frowning, he looked down at the corner of the box's entrance. Poking out from under the curtain was a piece of ivory. Puzzled, Alec approached it, crouching down and pulling at the polished ornament. It was heavier than he expected, and soon the pearly white gave way to a fine black hardwood and then...

Alec's eyes widened as his hand wrapped around Magnus's cane, now fully out in the open. His stomach turned over as he slid his hand up the length of the rod and he cursed when a sticky burning sensation blazed across the inside of his fingers. The cane clattered to the ground and he looked down at his hand.

His heart very nearly stopped.

Deep crimson and unmistakable, blood was smeared across his palm. But that wasn't all- demon ichor clung to his fingers in thick black chunks, sizzling away into nothing. Eyes widening, he scrambled onto his feet and ripped the curtain back.

He had found Magnus.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry this came up a day late, guys. FFN wasn't working with me. D:_

_Now here's where I'd like to make note of several things: firstly, the flowers. More specifically, the anemones as Magnus already has explained the other two pretty much. _

_According to a certain flower-lore site: **"The Anemone on a darker note indicates fading hope and a feeling of having been forsaken. On a positive note it symbolizes anticipation. The name anemone comes from the Greek word for "windflower." According to Greek mythology, the anemone sprang from Aphrodite's tears as she mourned the death of Adonis. Thought to bring luck and protect against evil, legend has it that when the anemone closes its petals, it's a signal that rain is approaching."**_

_So yeah. Not exactly the happiest flower to be giving on your wedding day. ;)_

_Also yes, I know. They probably wouldn't be married in a church as Simon would feel left out and also the awkwardness of having a half-demon being married on holy ground. But just hang on here with me, I liked the drama of the church and the confessionals and damn it I was going to have them. Also I had already written the chapter before I thought of those things and I'm too lazy to go through a re-write. _

_Also: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS LAST UPDATE. Really guys, you made my day. :D_

_Chapter five should be up sometime next week._


	5. A Respectable Damnation

**Pound of Flesh**

_**Chapter Five - A Respectable Damnation**_

"No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold

Nothing satisfies me but your soul"

_-O Death _

By Jen Titus

_-Also the instrumental piece "The Longest Night" by The Tin Hat Trio-_

* * *

"Isabelle dropped by today."

_Tick. Tock._

"She, ah... made a mess in the kitchen trying to make you a get better cake."

_Tick. Tock._

"Yeah. You didn't miss much."

_Tic-ti-ti-ti-tick. Tock._

"It had lemon pudding filling. I know you hate lemons."

_Tic-TICK. Tock-ock._

"I didn't bother saving any for when you wake up."

_To-ock. Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-_

"But theres still some of that take out you like in the-by the fucking _angel._" Alec kicked the side table, jolting Magnus's old alarm clock back into motion.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

He glared at the timepiece, every fiber of him wanting to smash its face against the wall. But he knew Magnus would hate to wake to find his favorite clock in pieces. It just might shock him back into another sleep and Alec didn't like the thought of having to wade through another laborious illness.

His gaze eventually drifted back to the warlock. He was still lying perfectly on his side of the bed, head fully on his pillow and body tucked neatly under the comforter. Something that would have never would have happened if he were truly asleep and not... well, Alec didn't know what it was. No one did.

_Tick. Tock. Ti-tick. Tocktick._

Alec gritted his teeth and stood. He hated looking at Magnus like this, even though that was all he ever did anymore; watch and stupidly talk to himself as if the daft old warlock could actually hear him. Sure while he was chattering away it made him feel better but once he shut up and actually thought about the situation it only made him hate it and himself all the more. He wanted to take the man by the shoulders and violently shake him, screaming for him to come back already. Like he did partway into the second week of this deep sleep-it took him another two weeks to win back the trust of his family to be left alone with Magnus after that.

_Ti-ti-tick._

He shook his head and walked over to the warlock's bookshelves. He was overthinking things... again._ Magnus wouldn't want you to do this._ He scolded himself._ Sitting around stewing like this._ With a sigh Alec ran his hand across the many worn book spines stacked on the eye level shelf. Most of them were in latin, and while Alec could read the dead language he certainly didn't have the capacity to tackle it in this emotional state. But occasionally an english title would crop up, hinting at what this particular section of Magnus's personal library was about._ More demonology. I suppose for him it's more or less family history_- again, he stopped himself, feeling immediately guilty for thinking such a thing about his almost-husband.

Alec idly picked a random title from the batch. By sheer luck it was in English; "A Fellow's Study on the Demonic Pact". With a snort he flipped it open, skimming over passages outlining the basics of demonic summoning and the finer points of deal making with devils._ Mundanes can be so stupid._ Though he had to give the author credit, as the latter portion of the text was mostly spent on the ill effects that so often followed such dangerous dabbling in the satanic arts. Depictions of gored families and burning villages followed by descriptions of each specific demon's preferred method of punishment. It was all quite macabre.

_Tockticktock. TickTick. Tock._

He was about to close the book-now convinced the writer must have been a warlock, with the eerie specificity of the detail and alien name-when a particular image caught his eye. Drawn in fading ink was the image of a bedridden man. His heart skipped a beat when he glanced between it and Magnus. _No. Of course it can't be. There's plenty of other things that can make him this sick. It's just a coincidence, that's all._

Coincidence or not, it didn't stop him from reading the connecting passage.

_Most curious of all is the spiritual pact. By far the most binding and severe of demonic contracts, the exchanging of one's soul is oddly the most gentle descent into hell._

_It starts with illness. Typically, it comes in the form of a respiratory ailment none too different from tuberculosis. After a period of worsening coughing fits with the discharge of blood, the victim falls into a deep slumber until death, where the soul is reaped and taken to the demon dimensions._

_No-one is entirely certain as to why this is such a calm contract, but there is considerable speculation surrounding the topic. Most well versed in the dark arts claim that typically such dire deals (as in, one so desperate a man's soul is considered a reasonable bargaining chip) come with the introduction or salvation of another life, creating balance. A soul for a soul. So as long as the deal maker descends willingly, no additional damage needs to be inflicted. Balance has already been achieved._

_I, however, have my own hypothesis. I consider the selling of one's soul for another's as the most noble of acts. Believe it or not, demons are no strangers to nobility. They credit respect where its due; nothing proves this more than the correlation between the want of the dealmaker and the death of said dealmaker. A man consumed with greed with the wish of wealth will die with the loss of his material possessions. A prideful man wishing for popularity and success will in turn lose not only himself but those whom he so wishes to impress._

_But a humble man gladly giving everything he has for another? Aside from the sickness of death-the very thing he asked for-there is no additional penalty._

Alec didn't know how long he stared down at the page. Seconds, minutes, maybe more. Slowly, his gut wrapped itself into a solid knot. Coughing up blood and falling into a coma, it fit Magnus to a T. That and he never once tried to find help, just continuing as he was even when it was obvious it was more than just a common cold. _Magnus... oh Magnus... you didn't._

_"And yet he did."_

Alec's head shot up, brow furrowing. He glanced around the room searching for the source of the comment, but couldn't find the source of the rasping whisper. A breeze brushed by, making him shiver and turn his attention to one of Magnus's large bedroom windows, which happened to be open._ I don't remember opening that..._ Alec puzzled as he shut the book and set it down, rushing over to the window. Of course the old thing stuck, and a stronger gust blasted through making him shiver. With another heave he finally knocked it loose and it came slamming shut, its glass and frame shuddering under the impact.

With a sigh he looked out at the snow and ice coated road below, trying to recall when he had managed to pry the rusty payne open and failing. _Maybe Izzy opened it while she was visiting. But the why didn't I notice sooner...?_ Of course, he couldn't come up with an answer. And being tired as he was of not having answers, he decided to abandon the pursuit altogether and return to the book to shelf it away; to return to babbling at his half dead boyfriend for the rest of the night.

The gust of wind had flipped the book open again. This time it was a wide variety of diagrams, all of different devils traps and summoning circles accompanied by descriptions of their uses. Of course Alec had a cursory knowledge of demon conjuring from both his studies and exposure thanks to Magnus, but he had never seen these before in any text he read nor did he remember Magnus using any of these. _Well if he never used them why does he have this book? Curiosity_? Maybe, but given Magnus's current state Alec wasn't so sure anymore. He began skimming over the descriptions, most of them fairly mundane summoning circles which didn't stand out to him.

Alec was about to shut the book and return it to its place when a particularly strange. It was a pentagram overlaid with a thick armed "+" with accompanying script Alec didn't recognize. Baffled, Alec addressed the caption.

_Figure 4: The Crossroads Circle. Created to emulate the classic devil's crossroad, it is the ideal method of demonic deal making with greater demons and hellish figureheads without the need of a binding mark. Used most commonly for unbinding pacts. Details on page 394._

Alec re-read the brief description several times. In his head, aloud, repeating it over and over as he settled back into his seat next to Magnus. Against his better sense, an idea began to germinate in the back of his mind. _Used for unbinding pacts. This is used for..._

_Tick. Tock. Ti-oc-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-_

_Crash!_

There was no thought in his action when swept his arm across Magnus's end table, sending the stuttering clock shattering to the floor. Hardly any emotion either, aside from the minor irritation that anything would dare break his concentration from the book he held. In the same manner he had destroyed the timepiece he hastily flipped to the specified page for the Crossroads Circle. The instructions he found were simple and to the point, and all the ingredients needed were easily accessible in the warlock's flat. Within minutes, the subconscious sprout of an idea had spread its roots, encompassing his mind with it's one mission:_ Magnus will be cured no matter the cost._

* * *

_"Damn_ it!" Alec shouted, hurling the book across the room so it hit the opposite wall with an unceremonious _thud_. Muttering further obscenities he buried his head in his hands, nails lightly digging into his hairline. He had been trying to conjure one stupid demon for what must have been hours. His voice was hoarse from the endless Latin he had been spewing and his eyes were sore from staring at the near-illegible print of the raising chant. Not to mention his knees ached from kneeling on the hardwood floor of living room of which he had hurriedly cleared the center of for the summoning. Admittedly he could have saved a lot of work by just using the already clear space of Magnus's study. But it felt wrong for him to break into the last place left untouched since the warlock went under.

With a groan he got to his feet, stretching his legs. Frustration knotted up his insides as once again he ran the incantations-now memorized-over and over in his head, trying to figure out what he had missed. But this did nothing to calm him down as he already knew he had it down perfectly and running through it again was just a waste of his time, Magnus's time... and it went without saying the latter was at a premium.

With an exasperated huff he marched back over to the useless text. He fumbled with the pages and in his haste, he sliced his finger on one of the yellowed pages and arrived at the instructional page with another bout of cursing.

_I've done everything... I've got everything. I've got the chalk and the tar and the minerals all mixed and aligned. It's drawn perfectly. I didn't miss-_- he stopped short, noticing a particularly faded chunk of text half-hidden by the inward dip of the book's seam.

_Oh angel you must be joking._ Squinting, he skimmed the passage. He groaned. _Of course the vital ingredient would be the hardest to read. Typical demon._

He snapped the book shut and tossed it to the ground, eyes immediately darting to the mess of alchemic supplies he had looted from the apartment's storage cupboard. What he needed was a "key", something with a trait that was most associated with the demon he wished to summon. Of course, he hadn't the slightest clue what resembled what let alone which demon would come as a result. Not that he was in the most cautious mood in the first place; but every item he picked up just radiated _wrong_ to him, as if they were physically repelling him.

Powders mixed and bottles broke as the rejection continued and his hasty irritation transmuted into anger. When he had exhausted the pile he returned to his feet and rushed to the cupboard, digging and pawing through the unorganized shelves. _Something... there has to be something!_ He dropped to his knees and sifted through boxes and bags until finally his hand happened to trace across a genuinely _correct_ spark of something crushed against the far back corner of the cupboard.

Heart leaping in delight, he grasped it and yanked it out in a messy array of leaves and petals. His soaring heart did a nosedive._ This is... his bouquet._ Preserved by what Alec could only guess was enchantment, the mess of lilacs and anemones were clumped loosely together by the ribbon that managed to stay tied after all the abuse Alec put it through. In yet another one of his fits he had thrown it in here, unable to look at it. He had forgotten about it since then, having since been preoccupied.

He stood, shifting the bouquet back and forth between his hands. As he approached the edge of the circle he realized not all of the bouquet felt right. _I'm sorry Magnus. I'm so, so sorry._ Alec undid the ribbon and one by one he allowed the blossoms tumble from his fingers.

_"Now speak."_

Once again, he could have sworn he heard someone speak. Though he wasn't the most trusting of his senses lately; too often had he woken up thinking he heard Magnus call out to him and too often imagined seeing the warlock standing healthy and well out of the corner of his eye. He easily rationalized the whispering to his waning lucidity.

That didn't stop him from reciting the chant under his breath, though. Lilacs and anemones littered the floor around his shoes until finally all he held were the white ones. Well, mostly white. The blood from his still open paper cut had marred some of the petals, tainting it. _Didn't he say lilacs were the end all say all of innocence? And here I am bleeding all over them..._ he thought bitterly as he finished the chant.

Silence hung heavy in the air as he waited for something, anything, to happen. Of course. Alec clenched his teeth, fury at the failure rushing back all too easily._ It didn't work. This'll never work. All I'm doing is standing here making an ass out of myself-_

Fire leapt from his hands, engulfing the lilacs. He shouted and dropped them, leaving them to smoulder away on the floor as the flat began to shake. The stink of brimstone hit Alec like a forsaken's club and grew so strong that it sent Alec retching and struggling for a gulp of clean air. Coughing and wheezing he fell to his knees as the apartment was blotted out by white hot light and his ears were close to bleeding from the high pitch squeal that had been set off somewhere in the distance. Alec screamed but was drowned out in the chaos. He shut his eyes and curled into himself. _I'm going to die. I'm going to die and go to hell and so will Magnus. Oh Angel, oh angel oh angel I'm going to die..._

_"Alexander Lightwood?"_

Everything stopped.

Ears still ringing, Alec hesitantly opened his eyes. Not a foot away saw a pair of polished black shoes. Fear froze him to the spot, preventing him to lift his gaze any further. "Who... what a-are you called, demon?"

_"Oh of course you wouldn't know, would you? Typical nephilim."_ The demon sighed condescendingly. His voice was strange, like no other Alec had ever heard. A fine mixing of crackling embers and dragging canvas all wrapped up in a quiet murmur that crept past his thoughts and seated itself comfortably with Alec's thoughts. _"I go by many names. But my boy, you will know none of them if you do not address me when you speak."_

Hesitantly Alec lifted his head, taking in an unnaturally lengthy figure donned in a suit the color of congealing blood. On the demon's lapel was a white cluster of lilacs and above it was an equally as pale face. Or lack thereof. Alec's stomach lurched struggling to keep his eyes trained on the disturbing sight. When he repeated himself, his question came out as a croak. "Who are you?"

The demon chuckled._ "I once was angel of the pure and virgin, and yet here you are, one of my brother's children regarding me with such discuss. How droll. As if you were one to judge."_

"I didn't ask for you to tell me who I was. I asked," Alec pressed with shaky assertion, "who are you?"

The demon looked-if you could say such a thing-down at him. For a quiet moment, the demon studied him, before finally answering.

_"I am Vetis."_

* * *

_**A/N: **I HAVE RETURNED! *hallelujah chorus*  
_

_Sorry for the mini-hiatus guys. Turns out graduating this semester leads to more work than I had planned. But while wading through scholarship applications and such I managed to finally get this chapter up. _

_This actually used to be about double the size, including both Alec's "derailing" and then the actual dialogue between he and Vetis. But that was turning out to be stupidly long and I don't like posting stupidly long chapters. So I hacked it in half and polished this bit up._

_It was actually incredibly hard getting my facts right in this one. There's so much going on in this chapter as well as the next that I will have to call back on in future installments and I wanted to get it absolutely right. Yes, that is yet another excuse for why this is so freaking late. Also I had trouble writing a chapter with so little dialogue. Dialogue's my creative crutch and Alec damn went and kicked it out from under me. D:_

_I've also decided to adjust my updating to bi(eheheMagnus)-weekly, as I don't think I can keep up with my previous promise of weekly especially if the chapters keep being 2,500+ each. _

_**THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS SO FAR! **Really. I can't believe you guys are actually putting up with my nonsense. XD  
_

_Reviews very much appreciated! Also, brownie points to anyone who wants to take a crack at guessing where the hell I'm taking this acid trip of a plot line. I'm interested in hearing your thoughts! :D  
_


	6. An Angel Falls

**Pound of Flesh**

_**Chapter Six - An Angel Falls...**_

"Sign on the line

Make a deal with the devil,

Make a deal with the devil in blood.

Sign on the line,

Make a deal with the devil,

Make a deal with the devil in blood

Tell me, are you ready?

I'll give you everything you want

Just give me everything I need

I've got a soul for sale,

A soul for sale…"

_-Soul 4 Sale_

By Simon Curtis

* * *

"...Vetis?"

Alec bit his lip, heart hammering in his chest. _Vetis. Prince of Hell._ Never before had he been faced with a demon of such stature; while he lacked the horrific grandeur of the greater demons, Vetis managed to be infinitely more terrifying with his warped anthropomorphic simplicity. Alec thanked the Angel that he was already on his knees; he didn't think he would have remained on his feet for long in the devil's presence. It was all he could do to keep his voice steady as he struggled to keep his gaze trained on the creature's blank face. "I... I have summoned you for the sake of another."

_"Have you?"_ Gooseflesh broke out as Vetis's voice wended its way through Alec's mind._ "You do realize as summoner you will be the one to pay the debt, not them?"_

Alec's brow furrowed. "Yes... I'm aware."

Vetis continued. _"And this is a crossroads circle. This is no light dabble, nephilim. My price will have to be steep."_

_Is he trying to talk me_ out _of a deal?_ Alec thought dazedly, before snorting a half-mad laugh when he was struck by the sick irony of the situation. _The only nephilim willing to make a deal, of course I would end up with the only demon who would refuse._

His brief wave of whimsy was cut short when Vetis chuckled along with him, as if he had heard his thoughts._ "So you can say you soberly and willingly accept whatever may come?"_

Alec pulled his gaze away from Vetis long enough to take in the wreaked living area, from the toppled furniture to his chalk and blood blotched hands. When his eyes were eventually drawn back to the demon he knew he hadn't much choice. "Of course."

_"Splendid."_ If Vetis had a mouth, it'd be grinning. _"Tell me what you desire then, boy."_

The air crackled with tension as Alec stared up at him, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of the answer. "My fiance... he's gravely ill, and we do not know what is wrong. Please, I will give you anything if you can make him well again."

_"Anything, will you?"_ Vetis 'tsked. _"A tempting offer."_

"Aren't you going to take it?"

Vetis siged. _"I would, but I'm afraid there is an... issue."_

The fear and unease readily corrupted into anger and irritation inside of him. Suddenly, he didn't care he was speaking with one of Lucifer's angels. All he cared was that the clock was ticking and he wasn't getting what he wanted. "What in _hell_ are you talking about?"

_"Calm yourself, nephilim. I don't take kindly to a temper."_ Vetis's voice chastised, a blade-like warning slicing through it._ "The problem is not with you, boy. It is with the one you wish to raise. He has already sealed himself to another; I'm afraid I cannot break the pact."_

Any heed to Vetis's warning was gone with this news. Alec slammed his fists down onto the wood floor, the cracking pain in his knuckles not registering as he glared up at the demon. "I don't_ care!_ There must be a way!"

_"What you're asking for is the full restoration of his soul-an impossibility when only half of it remains in its vessel."_ Vetis tucked his too-long fingers into his suit pockets, posture becoming almost comically casual. As if he were discussing where to go out to eat with Alec rather than the state of Magnus's immortal soul._ "He only dealt half of himself for what he wished to gain."_

_Half?_ Alec couldn't make heads or tails of what Vetis was saying, which only made him even more furious. "That makes no sense."

Vetis didn't reply right away. Then, the old wood of the living room creaking laboriously under his feet, Vetis knelt down so he was at Alec's level. Once again, the shadowhunter was struck with shock. Everything he was doing-the clarity of his explanation, the courteous reminder of the possible consequences, now kneeling before a lesser being-was unbelievably humble and decidedly unlike any other devil. Or angel, as Alec's memory of Raziel was less than accommodating. Vetis, discounting his warped appearance was almost_ paternal_ in his demeanor. A small part of Alec wondered if this was a leftover from his angelic days; that maybe he had been a guardian before he fell. _"Warlocks rarely make sense."_

Alec smiled despite himself. "No, they don't."

_"But you must understand, his soul is split like any other half breed."_ Vetis explained, his hissing voice softening to a soothing whisper. _"Part of him human, part of him devil. It's the marriage between the two which makes him what he is; a warlock. He had exchanged a part of himself, so now the remainder is fading."_

There was a pang in Alec's chest. The remainder of the severity of Magnus's situation hitting a raw nerve. _Half a soul? How long has he gone like this? Oh Magnus..._ "Which... which half did he give?"

_"I cannot say."_ Vetis reached a hand out as if to place it comfortingly on Alec's shoulder, but it was snatched back by the crossroad's protective seal. Instead he folded his hands in his lap. _"It doesn't matter, however, as it is already spoken for."_

Alec's hands clenched into fists as he yanked his gaze away from Vetis. Tears were stinging his eyes, shame and pain battering him from the inside out as he struggled through the haphazard haze his mind had become as of late. Vetis's invasion certainly didn't help, as if the demon's voice was blocking off the more reasonable parts of him, allowing the toxic brew of emotion have full reign over the shadowhunter. He squeezed his eyes shut, doing his best to keep his voice from cracking. "Then I want to speak to the demon who has it. I will bargain with him. Tell me its name."

_"Again, I cannot oblige."_ Vetis calmly stated. _"He does not take kindly to nephilim."_

"What demon does?"

Silence. It went on for so long Alec though he had left, but when he opened his eyes and checked the demon was still there. Eyes sore from holding back tears, Alec roughly demanded "well?"

_"I was only pondering."_ Vetis lightly said, tone as unreadable as his blank face. _"Of a way we could perhaps circumvent my associate's previous agreement with your lover."_

"And?"

Vetis cocked his head to the side. _"I believe there is something even more precious to him than your lover's fragmented soul, something you could provide."_

For the first time during the exchange, apprehension washed over Alec. This was the moment he had been working all this time toward, and yet it wasn't without dread. "My soul?"

_"Not your soul, persay. As a whole it is mostly useless to him."_

"Then what?"

_"It is your blood that he seeks."_

"My-?" Alec's hand instinctively flew to his wrist, where the vampire Camille had once fed. "Why my blood?"

Vetis shifted onto his feet and stood, once again looking down on Alec._ "Angel blood is priceless-even if it is diluted. If you were to put that on the table, I might be able to bargain to extend your warlock's life."_

"Extend?" Alec's heart sank. "For how long."

_"However long yours was fated to be."_

Alec took a moment to consider this. Shadowhunter lives were notoriously short, and he knew whatever came out of this wouldn't be an entirely fair deal. _But I could have another fifty years ahead of me- that could go to Magnus. We could have another fifty years._ "He gets whatever I've got left. What do I have?"

_"You, child, will hold onto the bargaining chips."_ There was a smile in Vetis's voice. _"You will hold onto whatever half he sold, you will keep it safe-In this way you can live out the rest of your life with Magnus before I arrive to collect, and this will not anger my fellow devil as it does not violate the original pact."_

_Makes sense..._ Alec thought dazedly. Shakily he stood as well, rolling back the sleeve of his sweater, bearing the pale inside of his arm. But he stopped short when Vetis spoke up. _"There's no need to spill yourself out here."_

Alec blinked, confused. "But... you said you required my blood?"

A chuckle. _"Dear boy, you underestimate me. I told you, I will reap my crop when the time comes. Now, you can go on unharmed."_

"But how do you know I will keep my end?"

_"Because there is no place you can go to escapes my reach."_ Vetis gestured to the closed door of the bedroom. _"There is only one thing I require for you to do in order to seal the pact; wake your lover with a kiss. I will take care of the rest."_

"But," Alec looked to the door, "how will I know how much time we have-?"

When he turned back to the circle, Vetis was gone.

Alec remained where he was standing for a few minutes more, everything he had done now sinking in._ I performed black magic. I bartered for Magnus's soul. I sold my blood for Angel knows how long._ He should have been horrified; he had basically gone through the shadowhunter "do nots" like they were a shopping list. Slowly, he was able to drag himself back to the bedroom. The clock was still smashed and Magnus was still... _well._ No miracles had been done here. Yet.

Alec scooted onto his side of the bed, resting his head on the pillow beside Magnus's. He reached out, running his fingers through the warlock's raven hair before tracing them down along the bronze skin of his jaw and neck. He curled in close, shutting his eyes and breathing in the scent of sandalwood like a heavy drag. Tears threatened to spill, and this time he didn't resist. Weary and no longer being watched, he wept as he wrapped his arms around Magnus, burying his head into his non responsive shoulder. Bright flecks of memories they shared mixed with thoughts of how literally damned they both were.

Traveling the world.

_However long I was fated to live._

Proposing at the coffee shop.

_Half of your soul. All of my blood._

Waking in the warlock's arms after Heaven's battle.

_What did you sell yourself for? Why would you do this?_

Their kiss in Idris.

_What have I done?_

It wasn't until his tears had run dry that he pulled away, wiping his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbow over Magnus. Alec gingerly shifted into a comfortable position over him, once again burying his free hand in the warlock's hair. He leaned down and kissed his forehead, his closed eyelids, trailing down his jawbone before hesitating at the corner of his lips. _Wake your lover with a kiss._ His heart hammered in his chest. Half of him still couldn't believe Vetis's words, sure that nothing would come no matter what he did. But he was desperate, so desperate, that he didn't care.

He kissed Magnus.

At first it was exactly what he expected-cold and one-sided But just as he was about to pull away, an invisible forced pulled him into the kiss. Electricity sparked between the two; not the romantic apprehensive energy of romance novels, but actual, searingly painful electricity. He gasped against the warlocks mouth, and in the middle of a particularly strong shock warmth was brought back to his lover and his lips finally opened in response. Alec couldn't see if Magnus had fully awakened however, as the the pull doubled at the introduction to a searing pain which sliced through his eyes. The pain quickly spread through the rest him, marching through his veins like lines of fire ants which piled on top of each other in angry clots across the surface of his body. It kept building and building until it felt like he was being skinned and washed in acid all at once; even if he could open his eyes he didn't dare for fear to see his flesh peeling where his marks were.

And just as the journey through hell had reached it's peak, the connection was cut. It rebounded, slamming into Alec's chest and sending him jolting upright still straddling Magnus. His eyes shot open only to immediately close again. The dim lighting in the room suddenly was too much for his aching eyes to handle and he had to take a moment to brace himself against opening them again. His breath came ragged and his fingers still burned with the same peeling pain that had dominated his system moments before. _I can't do this I can't do this..._ he had been repeating this mantra throughout the entire ordeal, but it wasn't until now he knew what he was thinking. But it was wiped from his mind as soon as he heard a voice. His voice.

"...Alec?"

He opened his eyes.

* * *

**_A/N: I RIIIIIIIIIIISE._**

**_School's basically over for me now and I actually have time to write! As some of you have probably noticed I've been going through updating a number of my stories I have up, including this one. Hopefully I'll be able to keep this up. Because Vetis can't be a sneaky two-faced bastard without me. :)_**

**_So what do you guys think has happened to Alec? I'd love to hear from you all in reviews. And once again, thank you for putting up with me and this depression parade for this long. It doesn't go unappreciated. XD_**


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